


Price of Admission

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Claiming Bites, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, M/M, Omega Derek Hale, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Restraints, Socially Awkward Derek Hale, Touch-Starved, Virgin Derek Hale, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, mpreg mention, this is the filthiest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-28 15:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Hi," the alpha said now, ambling forward with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a flannel shirt over an undershirt, and Derek realized abruptly that he himself was only wearing his boxer briefs. The cuffs rattled as he jerked in an instinctive attempt to cover himself. He was used to being naked, like any born wolf, but now, with a fully-dressed stranger looking over him with interest, he feltexposed.Intruders didn't get sent home with a cup of tea and a pat on the head. That would send a signal that the pack was weak, that it couldn't defend its borders. Even if this alpha wasn't mad at Derek personally, he still had to dosomethingto make it clear to other wolves they couldn't just cross into his territory, and Derek was the only intruder they had captured. He would have to bear the message for the whole group.Derek gets caught trespassing on Stilinski pack territory. Stiles takes an interest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Complete and total id fic porn, please mind the tags and read with caution. The dubious consent tags are there because Derek’s wolf and body are totally on board with sex with Stiles, but that’s not the same as true consent, so the archive warning does apply.
> 
> A/B/O terminology note: these categories are separate from pack positions from the show with overlapping names. Derek is a biological omega but a beta of his pack, and Stiles is both a biological alpha and the alpha of his pack. There was no Kate or house fire in this verse, so Talia is still the alpha of Derek's pack.

Derek woke up slowly. His head hurt in a low, drumming way that meant it had hurt a lot worse before his healing kicked in. He didn't remember hitting his head.

He tried to roll over and couldn't. Something was restraining his arms and legs, and  _ that  _ got him all the way awake, with a sharp jolt of panic bringing sudden clarity. He was lying on his stomach on a bed, his wrists anchored to the metal bed frame with heavy-duty leather cuffs. His ankles must have been attached the same way; he was starfished flat on the bed, without a bit of the leverage he would need to even try to break the bed frame. 

There was something soft in his mouth that he couldn't push out with his tongue. When he rubbed his head against the mattress, he felt a strap wrapping around his head, keeping the gag in place. He couldn't howl for his pack, couldn't tell them where he was or let them know he was in trouble.

His heartbeat was going through the roof. Derek pressed his forehead against the bed and took deep, even breaths through his nose, trying to calm down. The room smelled like other wolves, all unfamiliar, and that was actually more worrying than waking up tied down. 

"Hey, I think he's awake." The voice was faint, carrying from several rooms away. Derek froze anyway, like the speaker was right behind him. If he could hear them, they could hear him.

"You think?" a second man said dryly. "All right, Scott, go meet up with the rest of the patrol. If they send a real raid, I want us ready."

Footsteps got softer until a door opened and closed in the distance. A second set of footsteps got closer. Derek's heart tried to climb out of his throat.

"Easy, dude. Don’t have a coronary now, we haven't even been introduced yet."

The door opened. Derek craned his neck around to look. His nostrils flared wide as alpha scent washed over him.

The scent unlocked the memory all at once. They had family visiting, distant Hale relatives from further north, and his younger cousins had wanted to go on a midnight run through the preserve. The preserve was no-man's land unclaimed by any of the neighboring packs, a bit of wild forest that any wolf had the right to run through. It was neutral ground, and it should have been perfectly safe for a group of teenagers and their adult chaperones, but one of his asshole cousins had been showing off for his girlfriend, and had started skirting the borders, dipping into lands claimed by another pack. 

His cousin’s siblings had shot off after him without a second thought, moon drunk and reckless with it. Derek and Cora had tried to herd them back, but that had turned into a chase, and before Derek could even begin to count the ways this was a terrible, awful idea, they'd been deep into an unknown pack's territory.

And then the howls had started. A hunting call, sounding from everywhere around them, terrifying the younger pups and making Derek's hackles rise. It had been enough, finally, to cow his asshole cousin into submission, but Derek had barely gotten them all turned around and running in the right direction when the other pack had appeared, wolves cutting him off neatly from the others as they leapt across a narrow ridge.

Cora had howled for him, but he had ignored the call. If he had howled his distress and she had tried to come back for him, there would have been two of them in trouble, and nobody left to see the pups home. Instead Derek had bolted the other direction, leading the pack away from his family. 

The second ridge had caught him unawares in the dark, and he'd gone tumbling down the steep slope before he could stop himself. He had no memory of landing--he must have hit his head and been knocked out cold.

Derek recognized this alpha's scent, though. He remembered a tawny wolf, eyes an unusual amber until they had lit up with alpha red, sprinting through the trees beside him, mouth open in a lolling grin that showed all his teeth.

"Hi," the alpha said now, ambling forward with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a flannel shirt over an undershirt, and Derek realized abruptly that he himself was only wearing his boxer briefs. The cuffs rattled as he jerked in an instinctive attempt to cover himself. He was used to being naked, like any born wolf, but now, with a fully-dressed stranger looking over him with interest, he felt  _ exposed_.

The alpha's hand landed on his back. His fingers traced the whirls of Derek's tattoo.

"You must be a Hale," the alpha said conversationally. "I heard you guys had visitors from out of town, which I'm guessing has something to do with your little impromptu invading party. Do wolves up north not know how to mind their own borders?"

Derek's cheeks flushed. It wasn't  _ his  _ fault his stupid cousin had left the preserve, but Derek had followed him into someone else's territory, and that made Derek a trespasser, too. And Derek had been the oldest one there, the one his mother had left in charge, even if his asshole cousin hadn't been willing to follow orders from an omega. 

He hoped his mother beat his asshole cousin into a  _ smear_.

"Yeah, I know," the alpha said, as if Derek had actually replied out loud. "Family, right? What can you do. I could tell you stories all day about the shit that Jackson's spur of the moment ideas have led us into, but I can think of better ways we could spend our time."

The hand on his back smoothed over his shoulder blades, then slid down his spine. Derek held very still, resignation mixing with his apprehension. 

Intruders didn't get sent home with a cup of tea and a pat on the head. That would send a signal that the pack was weak, that it couldn't defend its borders. Even if this alpha wasn't mad at Derek personally, he still had to do  _ something  _ to make it clear to other wolves they couldn't just cross into his territory, and Derek was the only intruder they had captured. He would have to bear the message for the whole group. 

Killing him would be a pretty serious provocation, and Derek didn't think the alpha would go that far--none of his pack had gotten hurt, and the alpha didn't smell angry.

That still left room for several of Derek's worst nightmares. He was in a bed, not chained up in a basement with a drain in the floor, so they probably weren't going to torture him and dump him over the border once he was too bled-out to scream. That was one bullet dodged.

Letting every alpha and beta in the pack use him for their pleasure and then sending him back home marked up and reeking of another pack--that was still a possibility. A likely possibility, given the growing smell of lust coming off the alpha stroking up and down his naked back

Derek swallowed hard. He could take it. His body was built to take it. But that didn’t mean it was how he wanted his first time to go, and it would be a lot harder to attract a viable suitor after if he’d been marked by other alphas.

He already had trouble attracting respectable interest. It had been one thing when everyone had thought he'd present as a beta, but his pack was had produced an unprecedented number of omegas in his generation, and his family could barely keep up with the dowries. Derek hated the kinds of social events that put omegas on display to be courted, and with his cousins as competition for the local alpha interest, it had been easy for Derek to just let himself fade into the background. He had figured he could stay with his family pack and help raise his alpha sisters' kids. Most alphas didn't want a big, muscled omega that scowled more often than he smiled, anyway.

This one didn't seem to have a problem with it. "God, you are gorgeous. And you smell amazing. I can't believe you're not already claimed. Especially with that ass that just won't quit."

A light smack landed on Derek's ass, making him flinch hard enough to shake the bed. It didn't hurt, but it was startling, and it brought home how vulnerable he was, tied down and helpless and--

"Oh, hey, no, none of that." The alpha's hand squeezed the back of Derek's neck with firm, blunt pressure. All the air in Derek's lungs rushed out of him in a whine as he came back from the edge of panic. "No rough stuff, huh? I can do that, sweetheart, I can be gentle. I'll be so gentle with you."

Derek whimpered. His instincts were a mess, half of him stuck in fight-or-flight mode, the other half responding to the alpha's grip on his neck, carrying with it the urge to submit. The alpha climbed onto the bed, knees denting the mattress on either side of Derek's thighs. Derek closed his eyes and braced for pain.

"Shhh, baby, shhh." The alpha laid down on top of him, all his weight pinning Derek down, his shirt soft and warm against Derek's back. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. You want to know what I really liked about you? Why I picked you out, cut you off from the rest and took you home?"

Derek opened his eyes a crack. The alpha's head was resting on his shoulder, breath tickling the fine hairs above Derek's ear. 

"You're loyal," the alpha said. "When we caught up with you guys, you got all the pups turned around and over the ridge first. Someone else might have just left the stragglers and run for it, but not you. You're a good beta, aren't you?"

Those words,  _ good beta_, in that soothing tone, from an alpha holding him by the neck, tipped his instincts entirely into  _ submit submit submit_. Derek went limp on the bed, his breathing slowing as his muscles relaxed.

"Yeah, there we go." Derek could hear the smile in the alpha's voice. "Pancake wolf. Very good. I'm Stiles, by the way."

_ Stiles_. Derek's mind was going hazy, but he knew all the alphas in the region by name, if not by sight or smell. He should be able to--

His heartbeat stuttered, and he felt Stiles sigh against his shoulder. "You recognize the name, huh?"

The Stilinski pack was  _ notorious_. They weren't mostly wolves, for one; every pack had some humans, that wasn't strange, but the Stilinski pack had a banshee, and a hellhound, and who knew what else. They even had a few renegade Argents who'd left the hunters to join up with the wolves instead, and their alpha, Stiles Stilinski, was a damn  _ spark_. 

If Derek hadn't already been flat on his belly with the alpha's hand on his neck, he would have been trying to flash his throat. As it was, he couldn't stop another whimper from escaping, a wordless plea.

"We're not that bad," Stiles said, disgruntled, but his grip on Derek was still gentle. "Half the rumors aren't even true, you know."

Derek shivered. His brain was trying to freak out, but his wolf was communicating on an entirely different level with the alpha above him, and his wolf didn't think there was a threat here. Stiles smelled good, like hot metal and cool forest, and not like aggression at all. His wolf thought Stiles smelled like something it needed.

"You cold?" Stiles lifted up off his back for a second, and Derek resolutely did not whine at the loss of contact. There was a rustle of fabric, and then Stiles' shirts thumped onto the floor beside the bed. Stiles lowered back on top of him, skin to skin this time.

Derek's brain just about melted. He'd never been this close to an alpha he wasn't related to, and the brush of Stiles' chest against his back, mostly smooth skin with a little fuzz of chest hair, sent a ripple of heat right through him. His wolf was basking in the attention, as interested in the alpha as the alpha was in him.

"Skin contact is good, huh?" Stiles nuzzled into his hairline and Derek surprised himself by purring in response. "Are you touch starved, baby? How did that happen? I thought the Hales had a big pack."

They did, but with so many pups to raise, it was hard to get an alpha's attention just for himself. It felt greedy to ask for more from his mother when she was already so busy with the pack. Laura used to cuddle him more, but of course she was spending most of her time with her mate and her pups now, and Derek wouldn't dream of begrudging his nieces and nephews their mother's time. Cora still let him put his head in her lap to have his hair played with most evenings. It was fine. He was fine.

Stiles did something to make himself heavier, really pressing his body full-length against Derek's, and Derek let out an involuntary groan. The warmth, the weight, the feeling of  _ held  _ and  _ kept close  _ was  _ amazing_.

Stiles laughed, breath huffing over Derek’s neck. "Yeah, I'm definitely keeping you.”

Derek was too blissed out to worry about what that might mean. All his focus was on Stiles' fingers rubbing up and down his arms, Stiles' toes sliding along his calves. Tingling pleasure joined the deep satisfaction of body contact. 

Stiles kissed the nape of his neck, his shoulders, his back. He sucked a line of hickies across Derek’s shoulders that tingled when they healed as fast as Stiles could make them. Heat grew at Derek’s core, running like liquid up his spine and down his legs. He squirmed in his bonds to get a little friction on his hardening dick.

“That’s it. You ever been knotted, sweetheart?" Stiles asked, casually filthy. Derek flushed and shook his head. "Jesus, I am one lucky son of a bitch. Don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna make this so good for you."

Derek felt a surge of nervousness when Stiles’ hand slid under the waistband of his boxers. Stiles cupped the swell of his ass, then pushed Derek’s boxers down to his thighs. Derek pressed his forehead into the mattress below him and took another deep breath. This time Stiles’ alpha scent filled his nose and wiped his mind quiet.

Stiles explored him slowly, carefully, fingers tracing his hole and spreading slick in their wake. Derek had gotten wet without even noticing it. When Stiles slid a finger into him, it went easily, even when Derek clenched in surprise.

“Holy crap, you’re tight.” Stiles pumped the finger in and out, sending shivers of pleasure through Derek with every sweep. “And you smell so good, God, I just want to bite you all over.”

Derek moaned and released a fresh pulse of slick. His wolf was fully in charge now, and the rest of Derek was just along for the ride. 

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” Stiles rubbed his cheek over Derek's shoulders and down his back, blanketing Derek in his scent. He slid down, nipping and kissing along Derek's spine, mouthing over his tattoo and tracing the lines with his tongue. A second finger slid inside, going in easy, and Derek could feel his rapid pulse beating where his rim stretched around Stiles’ fingers. “You’re taking me so well.”

Derek's wolf preened at his alph--at Stiles’ praise. His dick was fully hard now. He couldn’t help rutting forward against the bed, the sheet below him soaked with precome and the slick that trickled out with every pump of Stiles’ hand. He whined, needing  _ more_.

“Almost, baby. You’re nearly ready, but before we get to the main event, I’ve got to get a taste.”

Stiles shifted further down the bed, smoothing warm palms over Derek’s shaking thighs. He dragged his hands over Derek's ass and spread him open. Knowing that Stiles was staring at where he was pink and wet made Derek flush and keen low in his throat.

Stiles licked over his hole with one broad swipe of his tongue. Derek yelped, the noise muffled by the gag.

"Never done this either?" 

Derek shook his head frantically.

"What the hell kind of alphas have you been hanging around with? Never mind, their loss, my gain. You’re in for a treat, dude, just relax and enjoy it. I won’t bite, I promise. Not below the waist, anyway."

Stiles licked over him again and again, sometimes parting him with fingers to reach deeper, sometimes backing off to mouth at his balls or suck hickies into the globes of his ass. Derek moaned and yelped and rutted back against him shamelessly, too lost in the sheer pleasure of it to be nervous or consider what he might look like. Stiles rumbled his approval every time Derek was loud, so he couldn't have been doing anything too embarrassing.

Derek was on the edge of coming when Stiles pulled back. “I need to be in you, like, yesterday. Jesus, you are just insanely hot.”

Derek was hazily aware that there were more fingers in him now than Stiles had started with, maybe three or four, but the stretch didn’t hurt. It just felt like not enough, not  _ deep _ enough. The fingers withdrew and Derek whined at the loss.

He had a moment of sharp lucidity when thick, blunt pressure pressed at his hole. Stiles was braced above him, one hand denting the mattress by Derek's head, the other rubbing slow circles over the sides of Derek's neck. Nervousness returned in a wave, but his body stayed relaxed. His wolf trusted Stiles to take care of him.

“Deep breath in,” Stiles ordered.

Derek inhaled obediently, the smell of excited alpha kicking his own arousal higher. Stiles pushed forward as Derek exhaled.

It was a long, slow drag, Stiles’ thick cock opening him up and filling him deep. Stiles nudged forward in short thrusts, every movement sparking new bursts of pleasure. Stiles groaned above him and thrust deep.

Derek came harder than he had in his entire life the second Stiles’ cock hit his prostate. His body seized, clenching hard, and he could barely hear Stiles’ swearing over the roaring in his ears. 

Awareness trickled back in slowly. He was limp on the bed, rocking with Stiles’ thrusts, Stiles muttering continuously as he fucked him.

“Perfect, you are perfect. My perfect omega. You fit me so well, so hot and tight, God, can't believe I get to mate you. Gonna make you mine, gonna fill you with pups, can't wait to  _ breed  _ you--”

Stiles’ cock was getting impossibly thicker as his knot swelled. He drove in deep and stayed there, moving his hips in a slow, dirty grind that sent sparks of heat through Derek's lax body.

“Easy does it,” Stiles panted, more to himself than to Derek. “First time taking a knot, we’ll take it nice and easy, just like that. You’re doing so good, babe.”

Derek stretched languidly under him, his whole body feeling warm and relaxed. Stiles’ knot ground against his prostate as it grew, coiling tension tighter and tighter in Derek’s center, but the rest of him stayed loose, drunk on pleasure and his alpha’s praise.

Stiles kissed the tender skin where Derek’s neck met his shoulder. “You ready?”

_ Ready for what? _ Derek thought, right before Stiles bit down hard.

Derek cried out, the sound muffled by the gag, and came again as Stiles released a sudden flood of mating pheromones. Derek’s clenching on Stiles’ knot triggered Stiles’ orgasm, and he came inside Derek in long, slow pulses.

“Perfect,” Stiles panted, nosing at Derek’s jawline and kissing the bonding bite. “My perfect omega.”

Derek whimpered as the aftershocks continued to shiver through him, his body milking Stiles’ knot with every wave of pleasure. His head was clearing now that his body had gotten what it wanted, the biological imperative to mate fulfilled, and his wolf was brimming with smug pride at being chosen by such a strong and considerate alpha. 

Stiles flopped down on top of Derek, bare skin to bare skin, and ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. He smelled of sleepy satisfaction. 

Derek let himself relax. Stiles wasn’t going to pass him around the pack and send him home; Stiles had claimed him,  _ mated  _ him, wanted Derek to have his  _ pups_. He wouldn’t hurt Derek now, not after mating him so carefully. His wolf said he was safe here, and Derek agreed. 

They both dozed a little, not quite awake and not quite asleep, until Stiles’ knot deflated. He pulled out slowly, Derek’s breath catching at the drag on tender flesh. The first thing Stiles did after kneeling up was to open the cuffs holding Derek down, starting with the ankle cuffs and moving up to Derek’s wrists. Derek curled his limbs in and twisted onto his side to face Stiles. His  _ alpha_. Derek could barely believe it, but the bite was right there on his neck, already scabbed over but very much present. It would scar instead of healing completely, broadcasting Stiles’ claim to the world.

Stiles untied the strap at the back of Derek’s head and carefully pulled the gag out of his mouth. Derek worked his jaw to ease the stiffness, swallowing a few times until the dryness in his mouth faded.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Stiles said softly. His amber eyes almost seemed to glow in the morning light. “What’s your name?”

“Derek.” He felt absurdly shy suddenly.

“Hi, Derek. Welcome to the pack.”

Derek touched the bonding bite, noticing how Stiles zeroed in immediately on the sight of Derek touching his mark. The smell of possessive satisfaction rolled off him in waves, making Derek flush. “I didn’t think--” He cut himself off.

“What, you thought I was going to knot and run? Just use you and then toss you back to your pack when you might be carrying my pups?” Stiles pulled Derek closer, like even the thought was too much to contemplate. “I told you I was keeping you.”

Derek gave in to his instincts and pressed against Stiles, burying his nose in his alpha’s chest. Stiles rumbled approvingly and hooked his thigh over Derek’s legs. Derek fell asleep just like that, with his new alpha’s scent in his nose and his body wrapped up in his alpha’s arms, right where he belonged.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular request, I've added a chapter about what happens when Derek's family finds out. This picks up directly after the last chapter.
> 
> No warnings apply for this chapter. If this were happening in real life with actual humans, Derek’s attitude in this chapter would be straight-up Stockholm syndrome, but I went way lighter than that with this fic, so let’s all just assume that werewolf instinctual behavior and cultural conventions help explain Stiles’ previous actions and Derek’s acceptance of them. 
> 
> Peter shows up in this chapter. The fire didn’t happen in this verse, so Peter isn’t a murderous asshole, just an interfering one.

Waking up later that morning was a little awkward. Derek had barely opened his eyes before Stiles was suddenly hovering in the bedroom doorway.

“Hi.” Stiles held three plates, one in each hand and the third balanced on the curve of his elbow. “Would you like breakfast? Or a blowjob? Or breakfast and then a blowjob, or blowjob while you’re eating breakfast, or--”

“Stiles.”

“That’s me,” Stiles said brightly. He set the plates down on the bedside table and twisted his hands together. “Full disclosure, my head’s a lot clearer now and I’m kind of freaking out, so if you wanted to maybe eat some of the mountain of food I snuck out of bed to compulsively made for you, I’d appreciate it. There’s a lot. There’s...really a lot.”

Derek blinked. “Coffee?”

“Coffee!” Stiles lunged to the side and came back holding a tray with a mug of coffee, a carton of half-and-half, and a sugar bowl. He set the whole thing on Derek’s lap. 

As soon as Derek stirred a milk into the coffee and took a sip, Stiles relaxed a little. His ears pinked when Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry. Just, you’re my omega now, and I need to, you know, make sure you have coffee. Among other things.”

Aha. Stiles was feeling the need to provide for his mate. With that in mind, Derek leaned over and picked up a piece of toast from one of the three plates, eating half the bread in one bite. Stiles smiled at him like Derek had just given him a hundred birthday presents.

“Thank you for the meal, alpha,” Derek said, lowering his eyelashes deliberately. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Stiles said feelingly. “So how about that blowjob?”

 

Stiles blew him in the shower after breakfast, then jerked off onto Derek’s stomach. Once they were both spent Stiles washed every inch of Derek with such open worship that Derek’s head went dreamy and quiet. He might have floated there all day, except that Stiles still smelled  _ worried_, and Derek had to let himself come back to earth so he could figure out why. 

“Do you think I’m going to leave?” Derek asked, as Stiles dried him off.

Stiles paused, then started rubbing the towel gently over Derek’s hair. “I’d understand if you did.”

“Are you sorry you mated me?”

Stiles took a long time to reply. “If I hurt you, or if you’re scared of me now, or if I fucked up your plans for your future, then I’m sorry, and I’ll do what I can to make it right. But I’m not sorry we’re mated.”

All of it rang true, Stiles’ scent and heartbeat never faltering. Derek wasn’t ready to reply with words just yet. Instead he nuzzled against Stiles’ temple, brushing their damp hair together, taking and giving comfort in equal measure. Stiles held him tightly for a few minutes before going to get them clothes.

The clothes were full of Stiles’ scent, and Derek blushed just putting them on. The sweatpants were loose on Stiles but snug and a little over-long on Derek--Stiles was taller and leaner than Derek, built more for speed than strength. The t-shirt stretched obscenely over Derek’s chest.

Judging by the way Stiles’ eyes widened and his pheromones flared when he saw the thin shirt straining over Derek’s pecs, Stiles might have tackled him onto the bed for round three if they hadn’t been interrupted by a door slamming open downstairs.

Stiles turned around sharply, instantly on alert. “Scott?”

“We caught him!” Footsteps pounded up the stairs and a moment later a brown-haired beta appeared in the doorway, panting for breath. “We caught another Hale.”

 

“So, technically, the nemeton caught him,” Stiles said, staring at the werewolf dangling upside-down from a tree. A clump of twisted vines had the wolf by the ankles. 

Derek peeked over Stiles’ shoulder (Stiles kept edging protectively in front of him) and bit back a groan. Of  _ course _ it was Peter. This was either going to go really well, or really, really badly.

Scott shrugged. “Technically. Boyd and I heard the fight and came running.”

Boyd was another one of Stiles’ betas, a quiet man with a serious face who was staring unblinkingly at Peter. Peter was dangling with his arms folded, wearing a serene expression like he found himself hanging upside-down from trees every day, and thought it was all quite relaxing, really. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, his tie flapping ridiculously next to his ear. A leather briefcase was lying on the ground a few feet away.

“Derek,” Peter said, giving him an upside-down nod. 

“My uncle,” Derek explained to Stiles. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, of course. You’re out well past curfew. Talia was concerned.”

“Uh huh.” Stiles folded his arms. “And you decided to look for Derek by sneaking around to the opposite side of our territory from where he went missing, which coincidentally let you evade our patrols along the border with the preserve.”

“He doesn’t  _ look _ like an invasion force,” Scott said dubiously.

“I should certainly hope not,” Peter said, genuinely affronted. Derek had to stop himself from snorting, or he would have given away the fact that Peter wasn’t affronted at the  _ accusation_, but that he would ever be so  _ obvious_. It took skill to lie to werewolves by skating around direct truths, but Peter was a master.

“Hmm.” Stiles stood with his arms folded, looking at Peter through narrowed eyes. “Check his pockets.”

Scott edged forward. Peter let his arms dangle so Scott could take his jacket, managing to make the motion sarcastic. His suit jacket turned out to conceal two knives (the blades were probably coated with something--wolves generally thought of knives as claws that were harder to use, but it was a lot less risky to poison a knife than your own claws), a flashbang grenade, and a high-powered taser. Stiles’ eyebrows got higher with every item revealed.

Scott pulled a handkerchief sealed in three layers of plastic bags from Peter’s pants pocket and held it between two fingers, at arm's length. “Should I open this?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Peter said.

Stiles looked at Derek.

Derek shrugged back. “It’s probably soaked in wolfsbane.”

Scott dropped the handkerchief like it was on fire.

Stiles leaned in, forehead furrowing. “Is there a garotte in your tie? There is. There’s a  _ garotte _ in your  _ tie_.”

“Is there?” Peter said blandly.

“Not an invading force, huh?”

“You never know who you might meet on the road. I find it best to be prepared.”

Stiles turned to Derek and spread his arms in a wordless  _ can you believe this guy? _ Derek sighed and stepped forward. “Peter, I’m fine.”

“You always say that, and it’s rarely true,” Peter retorted. He twisted around to face Derek, looking him over and flaring his nostrils.

It was clear the instant Peter saw Derek’s mating bite. His body went taut for a split second before loosening as he suppressed his physical reaction, but a cloud of anger scent rolled off of him. “Stealing an omega mate, Alpha Stilinski? I didn’t realize the Stilinski pack was so...traditional.”

“And I didn’t realize the Hale pack was in the habit of neglecting its omegas,” Stiles retorted, “so I guess we both learned something today.”

Peter was either genuinely taken aback, or did a damn good job pretending he was. “Neglecting?”

“What else would you call letting an omega get touch-starved? Not to mention letting his mating drive go this long without being fulfilled. What, do you lock your unmated omegas up alone during their heats? Just leave them to sweat it out solo?” Stiles’ voice was heavy with distaste. 

Derek’s face flamed. God, this was embarrassing, but Stiles was looking murderous and he couldn’t just let Stiles misunderstand. Derek had to turn and tuck his face into Stiles’ shoulder before he could work up the courage to explain. “No, they don’t do that. It’s not like that.”

Stiles’ tone softened instantly. “Then what, baby? What’s it like?”

“I’m not good at--at courting. Dating.”  _ Talking to people. _ “Heat partners are allowed. I just didn’t have one.” 

After his first heat his mother had offered to help him find a nice beta heat partner so he wouldn’t have to go through future heats unsatisfied before he found a mate to settle down with, but Derek had nearly died of mortification at the thought of his  _ mother _ soliciting a pity fuck on his behalf. He’d always made sure to isolate himself for his heats after that, so his family didn’t see how worn down they left him. Maybe he should have asked for help, but he didn’t like the thought of his social incompetence becoming yet another task for the pack to solve, not when it was really just his problem. It was easier to hide himself away than explain how lonely and empty his heats left him feeling. 

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and pulled him in closer. “I genuinely don’t understand how you didn’t have a line of suitors beating down your door, but okay, your pack was clearly full of idiots. It happens. You’re never going through a heat alone ever again, sweetheart, you know that, right?”

“I know.” Derek breathed deep, his embarrassment and anxiety settling at the comforting presence of his alpha, before he drew back.

Peter was watching them, head tilted. He cleared his throat delicately. “Perhaps I was too quick to judge the situation.”

Stiles’ expression was indecipherable, but after a moment he gestured and the vines holding Peter aloft released their grip. Peter fell into a handstand and flipped up to his feet with inhuman grace, because he was a big dramatic show-off.

“Okay, do-over.” Stiles approached Peter and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Stiles, Derek’s new alpha. Sorry for making you and your pack worry about him, but I’m not sorry we’re mated.”

“I see that,” Peter said dryly, but he extended his own hand. “I’m Peter Hale, brother to Alpha Hale.”

“You’re Talia Hale’s left hand.”

Peter completely ignored that. “I’m not in the least bit sorry for trespassing, and if you do anything to hurt Derek, I will do my level best to wipe you and your pack off the face of the earth.”

“Cool, glad we understand each other.”

They shook hands while Derek face-palmed in the background. But hey, nobody had actually tried to kill anyone yet. That was a plus.

“Why are you really here?” Stiles asked.

“Why, to legitimize your mating, of course,” Peter said, sounding like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “If Derek doesn’t object to becoming your mate, then it’s certainly not my place to do so. That said, there are a few formalities the Hale pack traditionally goes through when a pack omega is courted to guarantee the omega’s safety, and you’ve skipped all of them. Derek is my sister’s only omega. She can be...overprotective.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and edged a little closer to Derek, looking like he wanted to throw Derek over his shoulder and run for the hills, but wasn’t quite far gone enough to think it was actually a good idea. “I’m not trying to start a turf war. What do you guys want, a bride price?”

“Unnecessary.” Peter reached for his briefcase, ignoring the way Scott and Boyd both growled and shifted closer. He drew out a sheaf of papers with exaggerated slowness and waved them at the betas with a judgmental look. “We have a standard mating contract. It guarantees fair treatment of the omega, dissolution of the bond in cases of abuse, reasonable visitation rights with the omega’s home pack, that sort of thing.”

“You just carry mating contracts in your briefcase?”

“I carry a lot of things in my briefcase.”

“If Derek wants to stay in contact with the Hale pack, that’s fine by me.” Stiles’ eyes met Derek’s, and Derek nodded agreement. “It’s not like you guys are far away, and I’m not his jailer. I want him to be happy. He can visit whenever he wants.”

Every word was plainly stated, and Stiles’ heartbeat didn’t falter. Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ throat, showing his gratitude without words. Stiles nuzzled his temple and ran a hand up and down Derek’s back.

“Good,” Peter said. “Then we won’t have a problem. Talia will no doubt want to visit at some point and see Derek for herself, after a suitable period for the mating bond to settle.”

Alphas got even more territorial when a mating bond was new; allowing a rival alpha into his territory would be nearly impossible for Stiles until he’d had a few peaceful weeks with Derek to let his instincts settle. Even just having Peter there was clearly making him twitchy.

“Fine.” Stiles took the contracts and started reading through them, clicking a pen absent-mindedly in his other hand.

Peter ambled up to Derek and jerked his head towards the trees. “Derek, a word?”

Derek looked at Stiles, who clicked the pen faster but otherwise pretended not to have heard, and sighed. There was no way he was getting Peter to leave without convincing him he was okay, which meant he was going to have to  _ talk. _ About his  _ feelings. _ Ugh.

Peter chatted about marriage contracts and courting protocols and Derek’s trousseau (what the fuck was a trousseau?) until they were far enough away from the Stilinski wolves to run very fast back towards the preserve if they had to, and then Peter stopped in front of Derek and said, “I can get you out of this, mating bite or no mating bite.”

Derek glowered down at his feet. “I’m fine.”

Peter smacked him upside the head, the exact same way he’d been doing since Derek was twelve. “This is serious, Derek.”

“I’m being serious!”

Peter grabbed Derek’s collar and sniffed his neck. Derek rolled his eyes and held still, letting Peter read whatever there was to read in his scent. 

When Peter pulled back, he looked thoughtful. “You know, I think he was right. We were neglecting you.”

“I was--”

Peter smacked him again before he could say  _ fine_. “Well, however you were doing before, you seem better now. More settled. And every time you touch him you start glowing. If you were shifted, you’d be wagging your tail.”

“ _Peter_ ,” Derek moaned, covering his face.

“You think he’ll treat you well?”

“He has so far.” Derek dropped his hands and forced himself to look Peter in the eye. “My wolf trusts him. So do I.”

Peter smiled, nodded, and pulled Derek in for a hug, taking the opportunity to whisper too quietly for anyone to overhear. “If that ever changes, cut his throat while you’re tied and he’s knot-stupid. He’ll never see it coming.”

Derek patted Peter’s back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

By the time they got back to the clearing, Stiles had signed the mating contract. Peter let him keep one copy and carefully tucked the other into his briefcase.

“I’d best deliver this to Talia as soon as possible.” Peter stood up and shook Stiles’ hand again. “Alpha Stilinski. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

“Somehow I have no trouble believing that. Maybe come to the pack house and knock, next time? Unless you really want to stretch out your back again.” The vines above Peter creaked, and Stiles grinned toothily.

“I’d be honored,” Peter said dryly. He tapped his own jugular and gave Derek a significant look before leaving, and Derek fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Stiles jerked his head at Peter’s retreating back. His betas slipped into the woods, silently shadowing Peter back to Hale lands. 

Once they were a few minutes away, Stiles relaxed abruptly, going from Alpha Stilinski to the jittery man Derek had eaten breakfast with. “So, that’s your uncle. Is your whole family that terrifying?”

Derek considered. Some of his cousins were only kids. But his mother, and Uncle Peter, and his sisters--yeah, they were all pretty terrifying. “Mostly. Peter is sneakier about it than the rest of them.”

Stiles made a face. “Great. Is he going to disembowel me?”

“Nah.”

“Are  _ you _ going to disembowel me?”

Derek turned to face Stiles and rested his hand against Stiles’ throat. Stiles watched him steadily, accepting a gesture that would have been a threat from anyone else. He was bad at finding the right words--but maybe he could borrow from Stiles. ”You didn’t hurt me. You don’t scare me. You didn’t fuck up my plans for my future. And I’m not sorry.”

Stiles’ eyes slid closed. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing under Derek’s palm. “Okay. That’s good. That’s really, really good.” He opened his eyes and smiled at Derek, a little lopsided. “So, you wanna head home?”

“Yeah.” Derek dropped his hand to his side and twined his fingers with Stiles’. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! I have no plans for more at this time, but if there's something you really want to see, feel free to let me know in a comment.


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